Another Grandparents Day

Today Grandpère and I were up early to make our way to New Orleans to pick up our grandson to go to Grandparents Day at Jesuit High School. For once we arrived in plenty of time. We parked with no difficulty in the very small parking lot and went in to attend our second Roman Catholic mass in three days.

Grandpère, who is a twice a year man for church attendance - Christmas and Easter - had enough church to last him a while. I wonder if he will skip Christmas this year.

The opening hymn was, "Alleluia, Sing to Jesus", one of my favorites, but we sang only two verses. I love to belt out all the verses. I didn't even belt out the two, because I would have stood out, since the rest of the congregation's singing was pallid, indeed.

Once again this apostate-heretic strode up to partake of the body and blood of Our Lord - against the rules of the hosts - for the sake of my grandson and because I wanted to.

Visiting the school brought back a host of memories, because, although I attended an all-girls high school, the church parish in which my school was located was run by the Jesuits. My friends and I went to the Jesuit High School football games and cheered for them. The words of their fight song came back to me, and I sang it softly to my GS as we waited for mass to begin, which I think embarrassed him a little. He doesn't not even know the song himself, because this is first year there.

Jesuit High, our Alma Mater dear,
Thy sons proclaim thy name to every ear....

I'll spare you the whole thing.

I remembered a cheerleader for Jesuit whom I had a crush on. Almost every girl I knew had a crush on him, even those of us who didn't know him personally. Had I gone out with him during my high school years, my reputation as a popular girl would have been made, but, alas, I never even met him. Later, when we both attended Loyola University, we did go out a few times, but there was no magic. The timing was off.

After the mass and reception, we went to brunch at Ralph's on the Park, across the street from City Park. The restaurant is owned by a member of the Brennan family of Brennan's and Commander's Palace fame. GrandPère wanted to go elsewhere, but GS and I outvoted him. We had an excellent brunch.

While waiting for our order, I saw a man who looked like Bishop Charles Jenkins, the Episcopal Bishop of Louisiana, waiting at the door. I was not sure it was he, until he turned in my direction, and I saw the purple shirt. I went over to him to say "Hi". We exchanged greetings, and I asked about his house in Slidell, La., which was flooded after Katrina, and he said it was now livable, but not yet completed. I wished them well and told them that I planned to be at the ecumenical service at which the Archbishop of Canterbury will be the principal speaker. Louise Jenkins is a warm, lovely woman.

Tomorrow will be a stay-at-home day for me.

Wes Clark Endorses Hillary Clinton

Oh, well. I just received an email from Wes Clark saying that he endorses Hillary Clinton as the Democratic candidate for president.

Never before have so many Americans had our well-being so closely tied to world events. Our economic and national security has become more complicated than ever before, and we deserve a leader who draws on wisdom, compassion, intelligence and moral courage -- in short, we need Hillary Clinton. She is tough but fair, a rock-solid leader equal to the many weighty challenges ahead of us.

Our Holy Cross Feast Day Celebration

Yesterday was Grandparents Day at the Roman Catholic school that two of my grandchildren attend. We began with a mass in the church to celebrate the feast day. The new pastor is originally from Ireland, and he still speaks with his Irish brogue. His enthusiasm captured the attention of the children and the adults. He advised us grandparents to sit before we fell down and told the children to remain standing. Then he told them to turn to each grandparent to tell them, "I love you." Then, he told them to remind us that we could not talk in church, an inversion which made everyone laugh.

The children's choir performed and led the singing nicely, and I thought we were on our way to passing a good time.

Instead of reading from the Gospel of John, he recited a simplified paraphrase from memory, and then on to the sermon. He began by talking about peace, and then proceeded to speak in support of Bush and his bellicose actions and words. He said that the US was the only country willing to expend lives and money to keep the world safe from terrorists - to keep a cordon of safety against them. What nonsense! A cordon?

I looked at Grandpère and rolled my eyes. I believe that he feared what I might do. The priest finally moved away from the "Bush keeping us safe" meme, but I was so thrown off balance, that I could not tell you what he said after that.

After the offering was taken, he departed from the liturgy to lead us in the "Hail Mary". I like the "Hail Mary" and I still say it from time to time, as a carryover from my RC days, but I thought this kind of departure from the liturgy was frowned upon by the RCC.

When I attend a RC mass, I'm generally torn about receiving the Eucharist, since I am officially not welcome at the table, being a heretic and an apostate in their eyes. I have no doubt that the Lord Jesus welcomes me, and many RC priests whom I know welcome me, but I had decided that I would, as a general rule, refrain. However, when I thought about my grandchildren asking why I didn't go, and having to explain that their church did not welcome me, I decided I would break my rule this once. Let them retain their innocence for a while longer.

What right does the RCC have to ration the Eucharist? What right do they have to exclude followers of Jesus from the Lord's own table? The priest says, "Take and eat," and, "Drink this cup," but he doesn't mean it for everyone. That's not right.

Our grandchildren showed us around their school with great pride, and we enjoyed the visit. The school has been loving and supportive to the children through the divorce of their parents, and I will be forever grateful to them for that.

My grandson had made a picture of Grandpère and me. In the picture, I am much larger than GP. In reality, that is not true, but that's how he sees us. I am seated in front of my computer in the drawing. We all got a laugh out of that, since GP thinks I spend far too much time in precisely that place. We couldn't figure out what GP was doing in the picture. There's some kind of tower-like structure that he seems to be reaching up. We'll have to ask GS next time we see him.

Thanks be to God for the little ones.

Dennis Sets Them Straight

Dennis at Psychology, Dogs, Politics and Wine, sets us and them straight about the post at Stand Firm on the state of gay marriage in Canada. You'll find the link to SF at Dennis' place.

The Jena Six

Further news on Mychal Bell of the Jena (Louisiana) Six from Ormonde Plater at Through The Dust.

Feast Of The Holy Cross

Crucifixion, (Corpus Hypercubus) (1954) by Salvador Dali - Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

Readings:

Psalm 98 or 98:1-4;
Isaiah 45:21-25
Philippians 2:5-11 or Galatians 6:14-18
John 12:31-36a

I'm going to do something that I don't often do. I'm linking to enemy territory - Of Course I Could Be Wrong - where the English MadPriest has a sermon at his site for the feast day. Credit where credit is due. It's a fine sermon.

But first we must ask ourselves, “What is this cross that we celebrate today?”

Well for a start it must not be the empty cross because an empty cross is a worthless cross. It is merely an instrument of torture invented by human minds sick with sin. Any celebration of this would be idolatry. The worship, not of God, but of a human design, a design from the darkest depths of our humanity.
....

The True Cross, the Cross that we should rightly venerate, the Cross that we should creep to in grovelling humility, is the Cross that has our Lord nailed upon it. Because it is only when our Lord Jesus Christ is united with that terrible thing of death, that it becomes truly holy. When the ironic takes control of the destiny of the world. When something so base becomes in stead the means of the triumph of good over evil, the triumph of the Cross. It is only when Jesus and the Cross are united by the nails piercing his body, crushing him upon the wood, that the Cross becomes an effectual part of our salvation. It is the passion of Jesus upon the Cross that saves us, not a bit of wood. It is this image of the crucifix, rather than the image of an empty cross, that dominates today's reading Saint John's gospel and, in fact, dominates the whole of John's account of the life of Christ..
....

People may disagree over when our salvation was achieved. Was it at the Incarnation? Was it on the Cross? Was it at the Resurrection? I would say that it was in all of these events. John certainly believed that the Crucifixion was an effectual act, that Christ’s death changed the world. Earlier in his Gospel he writes

"It is the upward swing of the great pendulum of the incarnation corresponding to the descent of the Word which became flesh.”.

These are a few snippets from the sermon, but I urge you to go there and read the whole thing. I think you won't be sorry.

PRAYER

Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself: Mercifully grant that we, who glory in the mystery of our redemption, may have grace to take up our cross and follow him; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting.

More Visitors Than Ever

On Tuesday of this week, both Stand Firm and TitusOneNine linked to Wounded Bird. No, I'm not giving links to their sites. I was amused that the name of my blog was not mentioned. The links simply said go "here".

The links were to Bishop Charles Jenkins' most recent letter to the members of the Diocese of Louisiana, which I had posted, but which was not yet online at the diocesan website. The folks at SF and T19 did not much care for Bishop Jenkins' letter, and the posts and some of the comments were quite negative. In fact, I was somewhat startled by tone of the posts, but especially by some of the comments.

The upshot of the linkage was that I had the largest number of visitors to my blog ever. They broke my record which had been set with my post on my trip to Mexico, which included the flag of Mexico at the top. For some reason which I could not fathom, the flag attracted many visitors to that post.

I wrote to another blogger after I read the posts and comments, because I was somewhat concerned about all the visitors from those sites. The other blogger, one of the top-tier religious bloggers, told me that the visitors were a good thing, because there are always lurkers reading the blogs, and that perhaps, some of the lurkers were undecided and persuadable on certain controversial issues. That made sense to me. So I welcome all visitors from now on.

Anyway, judging from the numbers, the excitement is dying down, and I'm getting back to normal. No one from either blog left a negative comment about the letter on my site.

No chance of my succumbing to pride over the numbers, since the popularity of neither post was attributable to anything that I had written.

Happy 46th Anniversary To Us!

Grandpère and I celebrate 46 years together today. We have three great children and six beautiful grandchildren. We are together today because I have learned to "keep sweet" and obey my husband. (Uproarious laughter in background)

Seriously, folks have asked us how on earth two such different people could ever get together - and stay together. Sometimes we look at each other and ask ourselves the same question. We were friends before we came to agree that we wanted to be together for the long haul. Neither of us was swept off our feet by the other. No love at first sight. It was like at first sight that grew into love.

We enjoy some of the same activities, while we go our separate ways for others. This seems to work well for us. We both enjoy a good laugh, although we don't always laugh at the same things, and we share an appreciation for irony. The saving grace, in my humble opinion, is that neither of us will permit the other to take him/herself too seriously.

This doesn't sound very romantic, does it? Trust me; we have our moments.

(Grandpère)
"I know..."
But do you love me?

(Mimi)
Do I love him?
For forty-six years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Forty-six years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?

(Grandpère)
Then you love me?

(Mimi)
I suppose I do.

(Grandpère)
And I suppose I love you too

(Both)
It doesn't change a thing
But even so
After forty-six years
It's nice to know.

With apologies to the writers and composers of "Fiddler on the Roof".

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that I received a dozen of these from Grandpère.



UPDATE 2: Tim Chesterton at Tale Spin has shared with Grandpère and me a beautiful love song which he wrote. It's a lovely anniversary gift. Thank you, Tim.

Top image from Wonder ClipArts.
Bottom image from WebShots.

Feast Day Of St. Cyprian Of Carthage

As usual with the early saints, Padre Mickey has the word.

Readings:

Psalm 23 or 116:10-17
1 Peter 5:1-4,10-11
John 10:11-16

Feast Day Of John Henry Hobart

Image from Wiki.

From Cynthia McFarland at the Lectionary;

After the American Revolution and the Independence of the United States, the Episcopal Church, under public suspicion in many quarters because of its previous association with the British government, did very little for about twenty years. John Hobart was one of the men who changed this.

Hobart was born in 1775, was ordained to the priesthood in 1801, and became Bishop of New York in 1816.

To look at John Henry Hobart, you wouldn't have predicted greatness. Height always distinguishes, and he was notably short. Blessed with attractive blue eyes, he was nearsighted and forced to wear thick glasses. In an age of marmoreal gestures in the pulpit, he was melodramatic. At a time of dignified eloquence, he spoke rapidly, with emotion. When most men were reserved, even with their families, he was warm, whether with ambassadors or farmers, to the point of being thought odd.

Most bishops were content if they bestirred themselves for episcopal acts a hundred miles from home. Hobart had the energy of ten men: horses dropped under his exertions and he thought nothing of a winter visitation of 2,000 miles in western New York or 4,000 at a more seasonal time.
....

He knew all the clergy in the Church generally and in his own diocese intimately. He was aware of their background, remembered their families, forgave their frailties, and appreciated their strengths. He watched over his candidates for Holy Orders with a paternal interest, meeting with them weekly.
....

He took 26 clergy at the beginning of his episcopate in 1811 and quintupled them to 133 by his death; watched the number of parishes increase from about 50 to almost 170; and confirmed roughly 15,000.

This lovable, indefatigable, type-A bishop went virtually nonstop from his ordination until his death.

He became seriously ill in September 1930 at St. Peter's Church in Auburn, New York, where Francis Cuming was rector. During his final illness he often asked to hear Lancelot Andrewes' litany, and joined in reciting it.

Cuming writes: "His pains were so severe he could not give his mind to them unless they were short, and when I had invoked our Heavenly Father to continue to be gracious to his suffering servant; and that whereas he had studied to approve himself to God upon earth, he might be permitted to stand approved by his Master in heaven, he interrupted me by saying, 'Amen: O yes, God grant it, but with all humility I ask it.'"

"On Friday, September 10th, just before the going down of the sun, and as its last rays had forced themselves through the blinds, and were playing upon the wall not far from the bed, he said, 'Open the shutters, that I may see more of the light; O how pleasant it is; how cheering is the sun--but there is a Sun of Righteousness, in whose light we shall see light.'"
....

Early Sunday morning, September 12, 1830, John Henry Hobart died, aged 55. The funeral took place in New York City on September 16. The mourners included the governor of the state and the mayor of New York City, and the procession was estimated at nearly 3,000.

The third bishop of New York is buried under the chancel of Trinity Church, New York.

What a man of God! He wore himself out in service to his God and to God's people. He sounds absolutely endearing. He was a short man, like Zacchaeus, to whom Jesus said, "Today salvation has come to this house...." How fitting that this reading from Jude is part of the celebration of Hobart's feast day:

But you, beloved, build yourselves up on your most holy faith; pray in the Holy Spirit; keep yourselves in the love of God; look forward to the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life.

Now to him who is able to keep you from falling, and to make you stand without blemish in the presence of his glory with rejoicing, to the only God our Saviour, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, power, and authority, before all time and now and for ever. Amen. Jude 20-21,24-25


READING:

Psalm 78:3-7 or 133
Jude 20-21,24-25
John 17:11b-19

PRAYER
Revive your Church, Lord God of hosts, whenever it falls into complacency and sloth, by raising up devoted leaders, like your servant John Henry Hobart whom we remember this day; and grant that their faith and vigor of mind may awaken your people to your message and their mission; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.